MIRIAM’S P.O.V:
Three months after the incident by the water tank, the laughter stopped.
Mostly.
Not because the boys had become kinder, but because they had become careful. Nobody wanted Senior Naeto asking questions again.
It should have made Miriam feel better. Instead, it left her with an emptiness she didn’t know how to explain. The teasing had stopped, but the feeling hadn’t.
She still tugged at her cardigan before leaving class. Still crossed her arms whenever boys walked past. Still chose the longer routes around school if they were less crowded.
The voices had moved from outside her to inside her.
See as she dey waka.
Bùrẹ́dì Àgẹ̀gẹ̀ rẹ.
Woman.
Sometimes she heard them even when nobody had spoken.
“He’s looking at you again.”
NJ didn’t bother lowering her voice.
Miriam looked up from her Integrated Science notebook.
“Who?”
“The prefect.”
Miriam followed her friend’s eyes.
Victor.
He was leaning against the corridor railing outside their classroom, laughing with two other senior boys. He was in SS3, tall and fine in the way senior boys were fine when you were in JSS2. His shirt was always tucked in. His tie was always properly knotted. Teachers called him responsible.
As if he felt her looking, he turned.
Their eyes met.
He smiled.
Not a big smile.
Just enough to show that he had noticed her noticing him.
Then he nodded.
Miriam looked away so quickly she almost dropped her pen.
“What?” she asked, pretending to write.
NJ kept staring through the window.
“I don’t like him.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I know enough.”
Miriam sighed.
“Njideka.”
“I’m serious.”
“You think everybody is suspicious.”
“No. I think he is suspicious.”
“He’s just nice.”
“To you.”
“So?”
“You know.”
Miriam didn’t answer. Because she knew why. Victor had started speaking to her two weeks earlier. Nothing strange. Nothing anybody could point at. He asked if she had eaten.
If anyone was disturbing her. Whether she needed any help in class, he could tutor her. Once, he bought her a meat pie because she had forgotten her lunch money.
Another time, he told two SS2 boys to stop blocking the corridor while she was trying to pass.
Little things. Kind things. Things no boy had ever done for her before.
“You’re overthinking it,” Miriam said quietly.
NJ shook her head.
“No. I am not.”
By the end of the week, Victor knew exactly when Miriam was leaving the class for lunch break. He always seemed to appear.
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m okay.”
“You should smile more. You are prettier when you smile”
The compliments embarrassed her. Not because she disliked them, but because she didn’t know what to do with them.
One afternoon, he said casually, “You know you’re prettier than you think.”
Miriam blinked. Nobody had ever said that to her. Ever. Not boys. Not girls. Not her parents. Not even herself.
She went home that day and stood in front of the mirror longer than usual. She tilted her head. Turned sideways. Looked at herself the way she imagined Victor had looked at her.
She still saw the same girl.
Too much chest.
Too much hip.
Too noticeable.
But for one impossible moment, she wondered if maybe everyone else had been wrong.
**********
“You’re smiling.”
Miriam looked up.
It was break time. Victor was standing outside her classroom. They had developed a kind of routine. He showed up during break, walked her to the tuck shop and bought snacks for her. This had been going on for about a week and people were beginning to notice.
“I am?”
“You are.”
She touched her face instinctively.
He laughed.
“There it is again.”
Heat climbed into her cheeks.
“I wasn’t…”
“It’s okay.”
He glanced down the corridor.
“Are you ready to go to lunch?”
“Yes” She said,
“Okay then. Let’s walk to the tuck shop together”
Miriam waved to a stone faced NJ as she walked with Victor. She didn’t understand why this fine senior boy had taken an interest in her. She liked it though. She liked the fact that walking with him made people stop bullying her. She had never had a school father. Maybe Victor would be her school father. She could ask him.
They were almost at the tuck shop now. She prepared to put her hand in her pocket for her money when someone stepped out of the shop. It was Naeto.
Her heart did a double flip. She tried to wave at him, but he looked straight past her. She wondered why. Had she done anything to offend him? Or was she overthinking it. It wasn’t that they were that friendly. But whenever he passed by her, he always smiled, or nodded or waved. It was the best part of her day. But all that had stopped in recent times. She could not help but wonder why.
Victor paid for her snacks. Again. Then they made to walk back to the classroom area.
“I actually need a favour.” Victor said
“What?”
“I have something for you. It’s in my classroom.”
She waited.
“Come with me, let’s go get it?” He said with a smile.
His classroom was only one block away. Students were everywhere. Teachers walked the corridors.
People would see her.
“I…”
He smiled.
“Unless you’re busy.”
“No.”
“Come.”
She followed.
**********
The Science classroom was empty. Most of the senior students were already outside for break. Another SS3 boy sat on one of the desks near the back, flipping through a notebook. He barely looked up when they entered.
Victor walked to his desk and opened it, then began to look for something inside the locker.
“I can’t find it.”
“What are you looking for?” Miriam asked.
“A notepad. I got one for you.”
She stepped closer.
He turned.
“Maybe I forgot it.”
“What?”
“I think I forgot it.”
“Ok” She said awkwardly.
He leaned back against his desk. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room suddenly felt too quiet.
“I heard those boys used to disturb you.”
Miriam looked down.
“They don’t anymore.”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“I don’t like people making pretty girls feel ugly.”
The words landed somewhere deep inside her. Somewhere the laughter from three months ago still echoed.
She didn’t know what to say.
He patted the edge of the desk beside him.
“Come.”
She walked over.
He smiled.
“So shy.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He laughed again, then tapped his thigh lightly.
“Sit.”
Miriam stared at him.
“What?”
“Come on.”
She hesitated.
He tilted his head.
“What?”
A smile.
A teasing tone.
“You don’t trust your school father?”
School father.
The words settled her. So she didn’t need to ask him.
Every girl in school had stories about school fathers and school mothers—older students who looked out for juniors, shared notes, gave advice, made school feel smaller.
But did school fathers ask their school daughters to sit on their laps?
She didn’t think so. She hesitated.
Victor held out his hand.
“Come. You’re behaving like I’m asking you to carry cement.”
The other senior boy chuckled from the back.
“See how frightened she is.” Victor said
Miriam told herself not to be childish. Maybe this was normal. Maybe she was the one making it strange. She laughed nervously.
She perched awkwardly on the edge of his lap, careful not to put her full weight on him.
Victor laughed.
“There.”
His arm settled around her waist.
Her shoulders stiffened.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Relax.”
She tried. Then his hand moved. Not to steady her. Higher. Not by accident.
Miriam froze.
Her mind refused to understand what her body already knew.
Maybe—Maybe he didn’t mean—
His fingers pressed again. Slowly. Deliberately. The room disappeared. She stopped breathing.
Victor leaned closer.
“You know…”
Something inside her recoiled. A clear, small no rising from a place deeper than words.
Miriam stood up. Too quickly.
Victor’s hand fell away.
He frowned.
“Where are you going?”
She stepped back.
“I have to go.”
“Relax.”
“I have to go.”
He laughed, but the laugh had changed. This one sounded mean.
“Are you a baby?”
Miriam’s throat tightened. The other senior boy finally looked up.
Victor stood.
“Miriam.”
She moved toward the door.
He caught her wrist. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to remind her he was older, taller, stronger.
Fear rose in her mouth like bile.
“Don’t be rude.”
Rude.
The word struck her strangely. She had been raised not to be rude. Don’t answer elders anyhow. Don’t embarrass people. Don’t make a scene.
But something about his hand on her wrist made her stomach turn. That same hand had just been pressing her…
She pulled free.
“I said I’m going.”
Then she ran.
************
Her eyes were blurry from the tears she held back. She did not remember leaving the Science classroom. Only the corridor. Only the sound of her shoes slapping the cement.Only the hot shame behind her eyes.
She nearly collided with someone at the bend.
A hand caught her shoulders lightly to steady her.
“Miriam?”
That voice. The shame moved like a drug through her blood. Hot and dark. She wanted to throw up.
Naeto.
He had a stack of exercise books under one arm and a laboratory register in his hand. He was standing with another SS3 boy, probably on his way to the staff room.
She looked up. Then immediately looked away. But it was too late. He had seen her tears. His face changed when he saw her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
The lie came too fast.
Naeto’s eyes narrowed.
“Miriam.”
“I said nothing.”
Her voice cracked. That was the mistake. Naeto looked past her, down the corridor she had come from.
Then at her wrist.
Victor’s fingers had left faint red marks there.
Something in Naeto went still.
“What happened? Who?”
Miriam shook her head.
“No one.”
“Miriam.”
But she couldn’t say it. If she said it, it would become real. If she said it, he would know. Everyone would know.
She stepped back.
“Please.”
Naeto held her gaze for one long second. Then he said her name again.
“Miriam, what happened?”
“Victor.”
She watched the emotions move through his face. Then he looked at his friend.
“That bastard guy has done it again. Stay with her.”
“Naeto—”
But he was already walking.
Fast.
Not running.
Worse than running.
Miriam’s heart pounded.
“No,” she whispered.
His friend gave her a worried look. “Stay here. I’m coming”
And he ran after Naeto. Miriam couldn’t stay back. She ran after them too.
Seconds later, a crash came from the Science classroom. Then shouting. Then another crash. Students began turning their heads.
Someone yelled, “Fight!”
The corridor filled almost instantly.
Miriam stood frozen by the door as boys ran past her into the class.
“You are so disgusting.” Naeto said, his voice seething with anger.
“Are you mad?” Victor said, “You run into the class and punch me from nowhere. I go beat this guy o!” He announced to the rest of the crowd.
Naeto’s voice was low. Furious.
“You touched a child. You keep taking advantage of junior girls. You have touched your last one.”
Miriam watched as Victor stuttered.
“You are fighting for Miriam. The cheap girl has been following me up and down. She was practically begging…”
His words had not all the way left his mouth when Naeto launched at him. Victor was tackled to the floor
A desk scraped violently.
The crowd gasped.
Miriam watched with tears in her eyes as blows were thrown.
Then a teacher’s voice thundered down the corridor.
“HEY! What is happening there?”
Everything became noise.
************
By closing time, the whole school had heard there had been a fight in the Science classroom. That was all they knew.
Naeto Bankole and Victor Adebayo had fought. A teacher separated them. They had both been sent to the principal. Victor had a swollen lip. Naeto had split knuckles. They were both sent home early and suspended for 2 weeks.
Nobody knew for sure what started the fight. There were rumors though. Miriam said nothing. Victor said nothing. Naeto said nothing. The other senior boy said nothing. Naeto’s friend said nothing.
And somehow, the silence felt louder than the truth.
************
NJ was waiting for Miriam after school, arms folded, face tight with worry.
“Where were you?”
Miriam gripped her school bag.
“Nowhere.”
NJ stared at her.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You missed part of lunch. Then there was a fight. Then Naeto was called to the principal’s office. Now you look like this.”
Miriam looked away.
NJ’s voice softened immediately.
“Miriam…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
NJ went quiet. That was the thing about NJ. She could argue with the whole world. But when Miriam sounded like that, she stopped.
After a moment, NJ said, “Come to my house.”
“I should go home.”
“Come to my house first.”
“My mummy—”
“You’ll call her from our landline.”
Miriam almost said no. But she didn’t want to go home yet. She didn’t want her mother to ask how school was. She didn’t want her sisters to notice her silence.
So she followed NJ.
************
The Bankole house always smelled like food and books.
That was Miriam’s first thought every time she entered.
Today, it smelled like jollof rice, fried plantain, and something peppery bubbling from the kitchen. The living room was neat but lived in, with family photographs on the wall and a shelf full of old novels, hymn books, medical textbooks, and NJ’s father’s newspapers.
NJ dropped her bag by the sofa and shouted, “Mummy, we’re back!”
“Don’t shout in my house!” Mrs. Bankole shouted back from the kitchen.
NJ rolled her eyes. “You see?”
For the first time all day, Miriam almost smiled.
Mrs. Bankole came out wiping her hands on a napkin.
“Miriam, my dear, good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, ma.”
“You people should wash your hands. Food is ready.”
NJ marched toward the kitchen. “Where is Naeto?”
“In his room and that is where he is going to stay until he tells me why he was fighting at school.”
Mrs. Bankole’s mouth tightened.
Miriam’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
NJ looked at Miriam. Miriam looked at the floor.
Mrs. Bankole sighed. “I don’t know what came over him. Naeto does not fight.”
No one said anything.
“He won’t come down until your father returns,” Mrs. Bankole continued. “Let him sit there and think.”
Miriam’s stomach twisted. Naeto was upstairs. Punished. Because of Victor.
Because of you, a small voice said.
Mrs. Bankole turned back toward the kitchen. “Njideka, come and help me dish the food.”
NJ followed her mother, but glanced back at Miriam. A question in her eyes. Miriam couldn’t answer it.
She stood in the living room, staring at the staircase. She needed to find a way to go upstairs and apologise to Naeto.
After a few minutes, NJ came out carrying two plates.
“Mummy said we should eat in the dining.”
Miriam nodded.
Then she asked before she could lose courage, “Can I take his food to him?”
NJ paused.
“To Naeto?”
Miriam nodded.
NJ studied her face. For once, The Professor did not ask questions. She simply turned toward the kitchen.
“Mummy! Miriam will take Naeto’s food upstairs.”
Mrs. Bankole called back, “OK. Tell him to eat and not form matyr”
NJ handed Miriam the tray. Jollof rice. Plantain. Chicken. A bottle of water. The tray suddenly felt too heavy.
“His room is the second door on the left,” NJ said quietly.
“I know.”
NJ’s eyebrows rose.
Miriam’s cheeks warmed.
“I mean… you’ve told me before.”
NJ didn’t tease her.
She just nodded.
“Okay.”
***********
The staircase seemed longer than it should have. At the top, Miriam paused. The hallway was quiet.
Family photographs lined the wall—NJ as a baby with one fist in her mouth, Naeto in a school uniform too big for him, their parents standing behind them, smiling. There was one photo of Naeto at a debate competition, holding a certificate and looking deeply embarrassed by the camera.
He looked younger there. Less impossible. Miriam stopped outside the second door on the left. Her heart was beating too loudly.
She balanced the tray against one hand and knocked.
A pause.
“Come in.”
His voice was flat.
Miriam pushed the door open carefully.
Naeto sat at his desk, still in his school trousers and white singlet, one hand wrapped in a small towel. His school shirt hung over the back of a chair. A textbook lay open in front of him, but he clearly wasn’t reading.
He looked up.
Surprise crossed his face.
“Miriam.”
She suddenly forgot why she had come.
“I brought your food.”
He glanced at the tray, then back at her.
“Thank you.”
She stepped inside and placed it on the small table beside his bed.
His room was neater than she expected. Books stacked properly. Shoes arranged by the wall. A basketball under the chair. A small wooden cross above the bed.
She stood awkwardly.
He looked at her wrist.
She pulled her hand behind her back.
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted.
Naeto frowned.
“For what?”
“You got punished.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“But—”
“I got punished because I hit somebody.”
She looked at him.
He held her gaze.
“That was my choice.”
Miriam swallowed.
His knuckles were swollen.
The towel had a tiny red stain near the edge.
“You fought because of me.”
Naeto was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, “I fought because he was wrong.”
The words sat between them.
Miriam looked down.
“Thank you.”
“You already thanked me at school.”
“I know.”
He waited.
She squeezed her fingers together.
“But I want to say it again. Thank you for defending me.”
Naeto’s face softened.
For the first time since she entered, he almost smiled.
“You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “You don’t.”
Miriam didn’t know what to do with that.
She turned toward the door.
“Miriam.”
She stopped.
Her hand was already on the door handle.
“Yes?”
Naeto leaned forward slightly, careful with his injured hand.
“Next time anything makes you uncomfortable…”
She looked at him.
“Leave.”
Her throat tightened.
“You don’t owe anybody your politeness.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
“And Miriam?”
She looked at him again.
He seemed angry. Not at her. At the world, maybe. Or at boys like Victor.
“You didn’t do anything to deserve what happened.”
Her eyes filled too quickly. She looked away before he could see. But of course, he saw. He always seemed to see.
“I should go,” she whispered.
“Okay.”
She opened the door.
Before stepping out, she turned back.
“Brother Naeto?”
Something moved across his face.
“Yes?”
“Your mummy said you should eat and not form martyr.”
For a second, he just stared at her.
Then he laughed. A real laugh. Small, but real. And somehow, that laugh loosened something in Miriam’s chest. She left the room before he could see her smile.
Downstairs, NJ was waiting at the foot of the stairs with her arms folded.
“You were gone for a while.”
Miriam wiped her face quickly.
“No, I wasn’t.”
NJ’s eyes narrowed.
“You cried.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
Miriam walked past her toward the dining table. NJ followed. For once, she didn’t press. They sat side by side and ate in silence. But Miriam could still hear Naeto’s voice.
You don’t owe anybody your politeness.
She did not fully understand it yet. She was twelve. She still wanted to be liked. She still wanted to be chosen. She still thought kindness was something you had to repay.
But that evening, in the Bankole dining room, while NJ stole plantain from her plate and Mrs. Bankole shouted at both of them from the kitchen, Miriam Luka held Naeto’s words somewhere close.
Like a warning.
Like a gift.
Like one more beat of a heart she did not yet know was learning his name.
Author’s Note: Boys like Victor deserve serious punishment🤨, drop your suggestions in the comment.
Our Naeto na really super hero, lol.
Catch up: Chapter one here.
See you next week.❤️
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